


Unconventional

by Irrelevancy



Series: More than Friends [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Gym, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Mild Kink, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, it says marco/undisclosed but we know it's marco/shanks, unconventional aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2021-01-01 18:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21147047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irrelevancy/pseuds/Irrelevancy
Summary: “I think I figured out what you're doing yoi.”Gym coach!MarcoKinktober day 23: aftercare





	Unconventional

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Midori, the kink professional, whose podcast appearance on American Sex gave me this lovely idea for an unconventional aftercare scene ndkfnkdnfasd

“I think I figured out what you're doing yoi.”

Ace frowned into the sweat-soaked towel he was swiping across his face, uncomprehending.

“What was that coach?” he called, even though Marco wasn't all that far away. They had a little corner of the gym to themselves, but every grunt, shout, and cheer from Jozu's impromptu spar session in the center ring was echoing across the entire warehouse space. Ace could barely hear himself think in this kind of atmosphere (which was, of course, why he liked to come).

Marco beckoned him forward with a tilt of the head, expression giving nothing away. They re-engaged at once, having only broken for a quick dry-off. Marco's fist came swinging, controlled but still hard and fast. Ace weathered it with a happy grunt. It was enough to make Ace think he must've misheard, or that Marco hadn't said anything at all.

But then:

“At first I was just curious. There were just a couple of clues, you know? Then the checklist started to get longer.”

The same brain that let Marco yell about revenue and operation expenses at the bookkeeper while simultaneously taking down his champion kickboxing student was, ostensibly, what allowed Marco to get inside Ace's defenses during the little monologue. He dropped Ace, and Ace enjoyed the little punch-out of breath, even if he was still supremely confused by what Marco was saying.

When he rolled to his feet, Marco had on an _I knew it_ little smile. Ace began to feel uneasy.

“Why don't we continue this conversation in the locker room later yoi?” Marco offered kindly, still bouncing on the balls of his feet. “After I've downed you a couple more times.”

“I didn't come here just to get beaten up,” Ace complained, wholly disingenuous.

And then Marco said, “but didn't you?”

That's when Ace knew the gig was up.

* * *

“How much,” Ace asked immediately when Marco emerged from the shower, “do you know?”

Marco raised an unimpressed brow, rubbing a towel all over his hair as Ace flushed in generalized embarrassment. They were alone in the locker room, both of them still mostly naked with skin soft from steam. There was a lot of muscle shamelessly on display, and while Ace wasn't self-conscious about it, he was certainly self-conscious about not being self-conscious about it.

He cleared his throat and chugged an entire bottle of water, while waiting for Marco to take pity on him and speak already.

“The most obvious clue was the shirt, yoi,” Marco drawled, moving to his locker. He turned his back on Ace before whipping the towel loose from his hips. Ace looked away as well, this whole conversation already intimate enough without Marco's bare ass factoring into the equation. “Whether it was just a round on the heavy bag or a full fight, you always used to take your shirt off.”

“I still take my shirt off,” was the only weak, _weak_ defense Ace could muster up.

“Not when you call me from your boyfriend's phone to ask if I'm free to spar in two days. Sabo's his name, right?” Marco said. Ace dropped his face into his hands, groaning in embarrassment.

“Do I really—What—How do you—”

“He's listed as your emergency contact,” Marco reminded. “Our system brings his name up automatically yoi.”

“So you really know?” Ace grunted miserably through his fingers. “Why I call you?”

“What you use me for?” Marco corrected pointedly. “Yes, yoi, I think I have a clue.” He didn't look angry, but he wasn't exactly beaming either. Ace made himself look up, as authentically ready to accept the consequences of his actions as possible.

“Do you hate it? I'm sorry, I'll stop, but please know it's not out of any disrespect or anything, it's really the opposite—”

“I'm not saying you have to stop,” Marco interrupted, coming up to stand in front of Ace. While trousers had gone up, he'd only slipped his work shirt on without buttoning it, so the purple cloth framed his tattooed chest on either side, arms folded across. “I'd just like to understand.”

Ace blinked rapidly. “Understand?”

“Well I assume that by now—” Marco's voice had gone as dry as Sabo's on a regular day. “—you'll have made the assumption that I _recognized_ what you're doing because of a very specific reason yoi.”

That was Marco's trainer voice, and the expression Ace was most familiar with seeing on Marco's face when he purposefully swung too wide and got clocked across the jaw, the one that dared Ace to do better.

“The reason that you'd know what I'm doing...” The answer surfaced with his trailing words, and Ace could feel his own eyes widen. “...is because you also do it?”

Ace hopped to his feet, mouth agape.

“Really?” he demanded to know, because this was _fucking news_. “In what capacity?”

“Hang on yoi,” Marco said, chest puffing a bit to make up for the fact that he'd taken a step back when Ace got up. “You give me some answers first—”

“Well you already know!” In an impatient gesture, Ace turned and showed Marco the bruises and claw marks across his upper back. Goddamn Sabo and his inhuman grip strength. “When Sabo and I do an intense scene I need a couple of days to come down, and when I do, I come to the gym to get you to beat me up a bit. It's fine.”

A moment's hesitation. “And you do this by yourself?”

Ace quirked an eyebrow and jabbed Marco's chest with a finger.

“Hey, don't be casting aspersions on my boyfriend, alright? This _is_ my aftercare, and it's _good_.”

“Yeah I get it,” Marco was quick to respond, palms up and out. “It's not always chocolate and cuddles yoi, I know.”

“You do, do you?”

Wordlessly, Marco dropped one side of his shirt and gestured at his left arm, where a thin band of black was tattooed around his bicep.

“From one of my partners,” he explained, looking simultaneously exasperated and fond at the ink. “Did it himself first with a stick-and-poke. He only touched it up when his primary got him a real tattoo gun. That should give you an idea of the kind of play he likes, yoi.”

“Ah,” Ace said, honing in on the one key fact in the information that Marco just revealed, “so you're good with poly?”

Marco gave him a _look_.

Ace wasn't too uneasy about this. Sabo _had_ acknowledged Marco's whole I-can-run-a-huge-successful-business-while-I-beat-you-up vibes to be very attractive last time he'd come around the gym. They'd have to have a more serious conversation later of course, but for the moment, Ace was relatively certain Sabo would back his play.

“You said you'd like to understand,” Ace reminded Marco. He let his eyes wander down the way they'd wanted to for ages now, down the expanse of chiseled chest and abs. He could feel Marco giving him the same examination in return, and happily flexed up a show. “What better way than to get in on the ground floor?”

“We're better off grabbing coffee first,” Marco said, voice low and not at all disinterested. “Talk everything out.”

“That's what I'm saying,” Ace agreed easily. “I'll chat with Sabo, you chat with your arm guy...?”

“Nah.” With a knowing smile, Marco buttoned up his shirt. “He's more of a comet situation yoi. I'm not attached.”

“Cool.” Grinning unabashedly now, Ace helped Marco do up the last button, finger lingering teasingly at the triangle of skin above. “Well. Thank you for beating me up today coach. It was lovely.”

“Yeah, I hope you got what you needed.” Marco's hand came up as well, picking a strand of fallen hair off Ace's shoulder, acknowledging the crossed-out S on the tattoo. Ace was pleased to know that Marco remembered the explanation.

With these two points of touch done like a promise, they parted, Marco heading out the locker room, waving one last time over his shoulder.

“We'll call you,” Ace said, finally pulling on a shirt.

“Sure, I know both your numbers yoi.”

**Author's Note:**

> Because it's _not_ all chocolate and cuddles. Listen to Midori's [episode](http://sunnymegatron.com/hotter-negotiation-midori-podcast/). I started too many things I still need to finish but hey, at least this is something.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://touchmycoat.tumblr.com/), drop a comment!


End file.
